Music Of My Heart, Original
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: Modern, Songfic. Rickon is a rock star. Arya is his manager. They're closer than brother and sister, closer than performer and staff—no one can deny the heart's song, not even them. Includes: Arya/Rickon incest, graphic.


**a/n: Modern AU. Song fic. Rickon is 17-Arya is 23 (OOCs). The lyrics that you will read (whether they're good or not) are mine, I came up with them, not one else; entitled "Sing" &"Falling". Includes: Rickon/Arya = (Rickarya) incest, graphic. **  
**Enjoy.**

**Summary:** Rickon is a rock star. Arya is his manager. They're closer than brother and sister, closer than performer and staff—no one can deny the heart's song, not even them.

**********Game/of/Thrones**********  
*****  
**"Sing"**

"_When I look at you my heart sings_  
_From the first to the last_  
_You steal it away_  
_My spirit sings for you_  
_The music of my soul calls to you_"

*****  
**********Game/of/Thrones**********  
*****

_One-Shot: _  
**Music Of My Heart**

Arya watched her youngest brother from back stage, hardly able to hear Rickon's voice singing in the screaming crowd of young women and men, wondering how they could even hear him for all their shrieks. Though Rickon wasn't the main performance tonight and just the opening act, they loved him nonetheless. He wrote his own songs, and the one he was singing now for his encore called _Falling _was his newest single.

_"The world turns upside down_  
_I try to hold onto you_  
_But I start falling into the sky_  
_Falling into the sky."_

His voice was discovered when he was ten-years-old during a school talent show. One of the parents there who also happened to be a music producer, approached Rickon after the show. He introduced himself to the boy, Arya and their parents as Mikkis Hunt. The man was a music producer who owned a small company and studio in Winterfell City. He told the group how much he liked the sound of Rickon voice, that there was real potential and handed the four Starks each a business card. He told them to give him a call, if or when Rickon got older and he wanted to try being a singer as a career, then give him a shout.

Ned and especially Catelyn had been dubious of the man, but Arya could hear the potential for stardom in the boy's voice even than and researched Hunt's credits. It took a bit, but the two Stark children had convinced the pair that Hunt was the real deal. So that was when Rickon started to go to vocal classes; and Arya started her pursuit of the music business.

_"Falling, falling, falling_  
_I am swallowed_  
_Swamped by all I ever was_  
_Down in the deep I sink_  
_Losing what I am_  
_I am falling _  
_falling from you_  
_Falling into the sky"_

Arya had become Rickon's unofficial manager. She loved her little brother, they'd always been close, and she loved his voice. People deserved to hear its melody. She drove him to his classes, discovered breathing lessons to expand his long capacity, read up on remedies for the throat, made sure he did his vocal exercises.

It was when Rickon turned 15 that the Stark parents believed Rickon to be old enough to call Mr. Hunt back. Dubbed a near professional in the music business at 21 after managing Rickon's pre-career and her own studies in her college years, it was Arya who called Hunt and made the appointment. Hunt heard him sing and was eager to sign the teen, and that was when Arya became her brother's official manager. They made an excellent team; she managed the business aspects, and he wrote the lyrics and music and preformed it.

_"I reach out and you take my hand_  
_When you look at me you don't see a monster_  
_In your eyes a man I become_  
_You make me into to all I could be"_

He was a soft rock singer, and though he was a just a city boy two years ago, he was in the Top 5 Most Popular Male Teen Singers in the North now at seventeen. He was a heartthrob. And it wasn't hard to tell why. He was no longer the gangly, wild-haired ten-year-old with a hot temper. He was seventeen-years-old, six-foot tall, broad-shouldered, slim-waisted, muscled like a man. His hair wasn't the fiery haired anymore, but it had toned down to a auburn. He was charismatic, funny, smart, tough, when he's was angry you could see it turn his blue eyes to ice.

_"I reach out and you take my hand_  
_You fix me up and pull me back_  
_Pain in my body_  
_my soul injured deep_  
_My wounds are fishers on the peak"_

Of course, Rickon didn't immediately become famous and popular, they had to start somewhere. That somewhere was volunteering at charity events, street performances, demos, demos, and more demos sent to every radio station in Winterfell City and it's neighbours, performing at fairs, providing entertainment at social events and sweet-sixteen's—in where all the birthday girls fell in love with Rickon.

It was a hard start, but the five years of dedication and the one year of free performances was worth where they were today.

_"The world turns upside down_  
_I try to hold onto you_  
_But then I start falling into the sky_  
_Falling into the sky."_

_"Standing next to you_  
_We looked into the sky and fall to the world_  
_You clean up my messes_  
_You heal my wounds_  
_The time flies by and you make me whole again_  
_Until I fall into the sky all over again_  
_I fall..."_

As he sang out the last lyric of the song, and crowd cheering as the final music notes died down, much to Arya's chagrin, Rickon came to the edge of the stage where fans were reaching up, screaming their love, when he howled like a wolf before the teen stage dived into the mosh pit.

"Rickon, Gods dammit!" Arya cursed through clenched teeth.

The crowd of fans caught him, passing the teen hand-over-hand through the mass. Arya tried to keep her eye on him through the ride, but it wasn't long before she lost sight of him. The first time that he did it, he didn't even bother to at least tell her about it. She nearly had a heart attack and when they finally got back to their hotel room with him laughing and grinning, she lost it and pummelled him until he apologized. He didn't consult her on it this time either, so the boy was in for another pummelling from his big sister—not manager—it was a very fine line between the two sometimes.

She let out a breath of relief when she saw him deposited back on the stage where he bowed, thanked everyone and exited stage-left—which just happened to be the opposite side for which she was on. Rickon turned and waved at her, grinning—she could even see the wink at this distance—before he turned and disappeared. She gritted her teeth and glared across the space as the stagehands came and set up for the following band. She was going to have to go the long way around to get to him and by the time she did, he'd already be gone. There'd be no way to find him, so she was going to have to go and wait at the hotel. The concert would be going on for hours yet, with three more band set to perform. She could just imagine the foolhardy things he might get into, and silently cursed—sometimes she felt like a middle-aged woman instead of a twenty-three-year-old that she was.

But despite all her worries, she trusted Rickon—who despite being a teenager—would refrain from doing the really idiotic things like doing drugs, getting into fights and being arrested, paying for a hooker, and not to get called out if he happened to sneak his way into a bar and get a few drinks in him, as well as not driving under the influence or getting into the car with someone who was. She'd drilled these things into him, that if he was going to do stupid things, okay fine she wasn't going to handcuff him to a radiator (as much as he might enjoy that), but just please not the really stupid things.

Back at their adjoining hotel rooms, Arya went straight for the minibar, cursed herself, and took out a mini vodka and drank it in a few swallows before falling back on the bed. She needed something to dilute her rampaging emotions. She needed a life—she needed a boyfriend, she needed something—she knew, ever since she was sixteen she'd been focusing on nothing and no one but Rickon. Her life was based upon her little brother's dream, without his, she'd be nothing.

She wouldn't have this high-paying career, she wouldn't have the money to send back home to help pay for Bran's medical and therapy bills that seemed constant ever since his mountain climbing incident, she never would have been all over Westeros, north and south. All of this was thanks to Rickon.

In the dark she lay on his hotel bed, waiting to punch him a few times for not telling her that he was going to stage dive. She always feared that one of these times they fans might not catch him, and then she'd go full-on big-sister mode and kill everyone of them for allowing her baby brother to get hurt.

Arya must have dozed because she started when the room door was keyed open and then clicked shut. She had a grumble on her tongue when she was nearly thrown from the bed as Rickon belly flopped on it—narrowly missing her. She flicked on the bedside lamp and glared at her brother as he grinned over at her.

"Sis, didn't see you there."

"You knew exactly where I'd be." She crossed her arms. "What the hell were you thinking? You know I hate it when you stage dive, and you didn't even tell me!"

He lay on his side, his head propped up on an elbow as he looked across the few feet of space to where she sat. "Chill, Arya. It's all part of being a rock star."

Arya ground her teeth, and he was hardly able to get his arms over his face as she grabbed a pillow and started to whack him with it, on her knees for more leverage, but he was laughing. He jumped up with his own pillow as her ministrations slowed due to tired arms and started attacking her back. The pair jump around the bed, whacking and smacking each other with pillows, Arya glaring and Rickon laughing. Of course, if he really wanted to, he could win easily won, he was six-feet and she was just five-four, but where was the fun in that?

Finally, he hooked his foot around her ankle and tripped her, she let out a surprised shriek as she landed flat on her back and Rickon promptly straddled her, pinning his sister in place. Gasping for breath, she glared at him, blowing her bangs from her eyes in a puff of breath as he grinned down at her.

"I win!" He sung.

"Only because you cheated," she complained.

"Don't be a sore loser,"

"I'm still mad at you, Rickon." She said.

Rickon sighed. "It was in the moment, Arya. I didn't plain on it, just like with the encore—I didn't think I would get one of those either—but it all worked out in the end, didn't it?" Arya glowered at him. He grinned, mischief in his blue eyes.

She knew that look. She opened her mouth to tell him not to even think about it, but he went there anyway. He started to tickle her. She tried to fight him off, but he held her firm. She resisted laughing for several minutes, but fell into it loudly otherwise she would have passed-out from holding her breath. He grinned as she wiggled beneath him. She narrowed her grey eyes, and retaliated. His hands were too busy tickling her, so her own were free and they attacked his exposed ribs through his t-shirt. He guffawed, momentarily stopping in his attack and Arya used the opportunity to flip her brother over, now becoming the one to pin him down and tickle him till he was writhing on the bed beneath her, gasping.

"Alright! Uncle! I call uncle!" He wheezed.

She grinned triumphantly over him. "I win!" she sung, mocking him.

He pouted up at her and for a brief moment she was reminded of her seven-year-old brother who used to pull out the puppy-dog eyes whenever he didn't get what he wanted. She had since grown immune—mostly. She stuck her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry.

His eyes flashed slyly and he reached up and grabbed her before she could react and kissed her.

His lips were hot and hungry against hers, stealing her breath away. She knew they shouldn't, but she remembered the one time that they did and it felt so right to her. It didn't matter that Rickon was her little brother, that wasn't what this was about. It wasn't about blood, it was about soul.

She slowly pulled from the kiss, gazing sadly down at him.

"We can't,"

"But why?" he wondered.

"You're my brother, I'm your sister. That's why,"

"Those are just words!" he protested, still caressing her face.

"But they're not! It's in our blood. Maybe if it was a different time, maybe if we were born to different lives—but we aren't. It shouldn't have happened in the first time, and it can't happen now. It was out stress and worry over Bran's accident that drove us to each other."

"You're wrong. What happened to Bran just made us realized the truth of what was between us. I don't regret a minute of it, Arya." He pulled her down and started kissing her again.

Arya groaned, almost as if she was in pain. She allowed Rickon to roll them over so that he was laying on top of her, against her better judgement. She was stuck on the line between right and wrong, love and sadness, what Rickon wanted, what she wanted, what would happen if anyone found out. Hunt would fire them; Rickon's career as a singer would be over; the tabloids would sully the Stark name; their family, their siblings would look on them with disgust and so would their parents—they'd be shunned by family and world.

She thought of all of this as he undid the her slacks and shucked them off, and almost on reaction she fiddled with his belt. He pulled back, running his hands over her clothed ribs and hips and caressing her thighs and drawing his finger over her length through her panties. She gasped at his touch as he pushed the material aside and shuddered when his finger entered her. She chocked as he pumped his finger, making her hot and wet. She grasped his shoulders, pushing at him a little, she wanted to resist but only thrusted her hips a little as Rickon inserted another finger and pumped them into her, twisting.

He kept his gaze steady on her face, watching the pleasure in her widened grey eyes, her lips parted and gasping. His sister had been the first woman he'd made love to. It was when Bran was 19, he was taking a couple years off college and travelling, climbing the mountains of the North when something had gone with one of his support lines and he had fallen. He'd been in a coma for three weeks, and had lost the use of his legs. Rickon didn't really know what it had been that drove them to be together; sadness fear, need for comfort or just plan need—all Rickon knew was that he had already felt these things for her, and what happened to Bran, that fear that anything could happen, had driven them together. Afterward, he had seen the conflicting emotions in her grey eyes; desire for her brother and shame at that desire and what they had done.

They didn't speak of what happened, Arya made it clear that it would never be brought up again and would never happen again. But Rickon could never forget the things that he felt for his sister, the love and overwhelming desire for the woman.

His cock was hard and her hole was eager. She barely noticed when he ripped her panties off, leaving her naked and open, eager to be filled. He shoved his boxers down his thighs and lined himself up, and thrusted into her tunnel powerfully, grunting as he felt her hot walls hug his cock like a lost love. She cried out, arching her back, taking him in completely. He started to pound into her immediately, throwing her legs over his shoulders, up on his knees, nearly bending Arya in half. He gripped her thighs as she clutched the bed sheets, her leg muscles taunt.

"Oh Gods!" she moaned, her insides throbbing. It had nearly been a year since they touched each other, not as brother and sister, but something else; and though she didn't want to admit it, she'd slept with no one else since.

"Ah! Ah! Uh!" Rickon grunted as he pounded into her, his forehead pressed to hers. "Arya,"

The first time had been almost like this, full of desperation, needing to feel something other than fear and sadness. It had been back in her apartment, the one back in Winterfell City. They hadn't even made it to the bedroom, their clothes torn off, not time to stop, no time for protection. It was there and now, in the hall on the rug. It had been mindless, no time for thought just emotion. When she came down from her climax, coming back to her naked body draped across the naked body of her younger brother, it had hit her what they had actually done, the abhorrence of it. They were siblings, brother and sister, you could not get closer than something like that. She had felt shameful, not at Rickon, never at Rickon, but at herself. She should have known better, but the ache in her heart contradicted that. But she went with her brain. She'd pushed from him and he looked at her in confusion as she gathered her clothes to cover her body and stood up.

_"Arya?"_

_"This can never happen again. We will never speak of this. Do you understand me, Rickon?"_

Arya had never seen her brother look so broken before, but he had silently nodded, and she went to her room, shutting and locking the door, and cried—at what she had done, at what she was feeling, she still didn't know.

But being here and now, and feeling him inside her again, having that connection with him again, it did something to her—and she started to silently cry. It was like a dam had broken inside of her.

Rickon saw them and stopped, gasping, dropping her legs from his shoulders and hovering over her. "Arya? Why are you crying?"

Arya just silently shook her head, hot tears leaking from the corner of her grey eyes. His heart broke at what the thought of what those tears might mean.

"I-I leave you alone," and he started to pull out of her.

"No!" she yelled and grabbed his arms; he froze. "No," she repeated more softly. "I don't want you to go, Rickon. Stay... stay with me forever, please. Just—just got slow, okay?"

"Alright," he murmured and leaned down, kissing her slowly. He finally kicked off his jeans and boxers. Weight on his elbows,hbe lay against her and started thrust into her more controlled, his pace slower.

She wrapped an arm around his neck and the other around his waist over his shirt, hugging as he made love to her. Tears still leaked from her eyes, and she let it, it needed to happen so that she could feel his everything.

"It's okay," he cooed, carding his finger through her short hair.

"Mm," she moaned.

"I love you, Arya." Rickon told her, feeling her pulsing around his cock, tightening, squeezing, always pulling him back in, wanting. "If you tell me it's over after all this, I'll understand, I just don't want us ever to be apart."

"I know," she gasped, and wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him securely. "Me either."

"You—?"

"I want you, Rickon. I'm done fighting this, I'm done fighting us. I don't want to be apart from you. We'll handle whatever comes afterward, but I just want to be with you now." Arya whispered.

Rickon's heart sung out as he locked gazes with his sister—but she was more than that, she always had be. He grinned as he thrusted into her, making sure that he went as deep inside her as he could get. And as she clenched around him, her muscled walls contracting around him, they came together, crying out. She could feel his seed burn like fire inside of her, but didn't care, didn't want to think about what it could mean as Rickon collapsed on top of her, gasping, riding through along with her.

She hugged him, able to feel his heart beating right next to her. They pumped with each other, in sync, taking on the other's rhythm. The music of their hearts melodised together, harmonized like a beautiful collaboration—they were meant to beat as one.

A heart's song was never truer than theirs.

_"I fall, I fall into your arms again."_

_-the end-_  
**********Game/of/Thrones**********

**Note:**  
**I noticed that their aren't many Rickon & Arya fics, so here's another for you. The first Rickarya fic, I believe. I hope you didn't hate on it too much. I know that the characters were probably double OOC, but I hope that you still liked it. Please, tell me what you think. **

**Thanks for Reading!**

**y**


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